


A Portentous Reunion?

by LME



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LME/pseuds/LME
Summary: Imaging what happened after the reunion of Arya and Gendry in S8 E1 of HBO's "Game of Thrones"





	1. Flirtation

**Author's Note:**

> Greeting, fellow fan fiction readers – Just like thousands (millions?) of Gendrya shippers, I was excited and encouraged by the reunion scene of GoT Season 8 Episode 1. Arya was actually flirting with Gendry! Although I have two Gendrya fan fics screaming for my attention, my imagination has been demanding that I write my own treatment of what I hope will be the outcome of that hopeful meeting. I don’t know what HBO has in store of us, but this is what I’d like to see.

“You don’t know any other rich girls.”

This statement was delivered with a sweet little smile, and then the wolf girl quickly turned and abruptly left the noisy, dimly lit forge. But as he stared at her rapidly retreating form, Arya suddenly twirled around to face him again and directed a sly smirk in his direction, turned again and she was gone.

Gendry’s face flushed with emotion, his heart beat faster, and he realized with a shock, _The connection is still there!_

The Hound had moved aside and there _she_ was, watching Clegane leave, now calmly standing in front of him, the girl who was always on his mind, even after all these years of separation. Gendry was not surprised by her attire; she no longer attempted to masquerade as a squire. However her leathers were distinctly feminine and she had two blades shoved into her belt – her precious sword Needle and a wicked-looking curved dagger. Arya’s expression was detached and guarded, the face of a tested warrior, giving away nothing.

She had been dark and impassive when she first spoke to him, requesting that he fashion a weapon for her, but her solemn face broke into a warm and radiant smile when he softly replied, “As you wish, milady,” meant to recall all that they had shared so long ago. Her gaze had even dropped shyly at his words, which further endeared her to him.

Years ago, when Gendry saw her in that ridiculous dress at Acorn Hall, he may have laughed, but he knew then that she was the only woman for him. Arya was still a skinny child then, but he was confident that the brave and wily she-wolf would become a strong and self-sufficient young woman, _if_ she survived the horrors she was forced to face. He had long mourned her loss and now Arya suddenly reappeared in his life. Gendry’s hands began to sweat as he considered what that fact might imply.

He had said, “As you wish, milady,” and to him the meaning was clear; it was a confession of love and he had no idea how the unemotional soldier who had first confronted him would take the declaration. 

Gendry was confident that she _did_ harbor feelings for him. Under the Hollow Hill, when Gendry had informed the girl that he intended to be knighted by Lord Beric and remain with the Brother’s Without Banners, she had pleaded with him to stay by her side, finally giving up all her pride to beg with a pitiful and vulnerable countenance, “I could be your family.”

Instead of acknowledging that they belonged together, he had refused her request, indicating that there could be nothing between them due to the difference in their stations. Upon reflection, that response was as foolish as his first remark to her now, “You look.......good.” Mayhaps he truly _was_ a stupid bull!

But that was not all. Soon after their argument in the cave, Lord Beric ‘sold’ him to Lady Melisandre and Arya was obviously distraught as Gendry was bound in chains and tied to a cart. Boldly confronting the Red Woman, who towered over her smaller form, she had said, “You are going to hurt him,” her voice filled with concern and anger. He was convinced that she still cared for him even after all those years apart. Gendry made the decision to plainly express his feelings at the first opportunity.

\--------------------

Meanwhile, Arya was assessing _her_ feelings. Meeting Gendry again had awakened long-buried sentiments of affection. She didn’t quite understand or enjoy the turmoil in her mind, but she determined that after years of living with a hole in her heart, these new emotions thrilled her and she wanted to see Gendry again. The next morning, Arya went back to the forge. He welcomed her with a smile and flashing bright blue eyes, and she almost blushed, feeling her belly flip-flop in response. 

The young smith demonstrated his progress with the construction of her weapon and then with a little hesitation, Gendry moved closer and stared into the stormy grey eyes he had always admired. Taking a deep breath, he boldly cupped her cheek with his large calloused hand, but she did not back away; instead she watched him curiously. Gendry nervously announced, “If we survive the coming war, I am going to ask your brother for permission to court you. Does this meet with your approval, milady?”

She was quiet for a moment, but then Arya smirked, “Ha! I would love to see the shock on his face when you do that!” The wolf girl paused for a moment and then continued in a more serious tone, “Gendry, I have been thinking too, and although I have never wanted or planned to wed anyone, I find that I am most pleased to see you again and wonder what it would be like to share our fortunes again as we did back then.”

Gendry grinned widely with happiness and impulsively bent down to chastely kiss her lips. The bold she-wolf forcefully tried to deepen the kiss but the lad backed off, protesting, “Arya, that would not be proper!” 

Smirking again, Arya teased, “Ah, and for a moment I thought you were getting some courage! I suppose that you will not even _try_ to bed me now!” All Gendry could do was blush at her words, but he was most delighted with her reaction to his proposal.

\--------------------

Arya was lost in thought up on the battlements as Sansa approached and observing her distraction, asked, “What is on your mind, sweet sister? I confess that I have _never_ seen you in so peaceful a mood.” 

The younger Stark decided to answer her honestly, curious as to her older sister’s reaction. “I kissed a boy who is in love with me,” she ventured. 

Sansa stared in shock as Arya went on to state that the boy was Gendry, the soldier and smith who had accompanied Jon into Winterfell. “We were friends long ago, escaping the wrath of the Lannisters together and helping each other to survive. Meeting him again made me realize how much I enjoy his company, and _you_ would probably say that my unexpected feelings are the same as love.”

“Arya, that is wonderful!” Sansa gushed, relieved to find something to be happy about.

“But Gendry worries about people objecting to us being together due to the difference of our stations,” Arya added.

Sansa looked thoughtful for a moment and began to ponder out loud, “Jon has told me about this Gendry, and I know that he was knighted by Lord Beric Dondarrion. A knight is not the same as a lord, but there should no objection to you consorting with a _Ser_ Gendry.”

“He may not want to be a lord anyway, but he professes that he wants _me._ ”

Sansa nodded, “Well, that is the important thing anyway. Let us be honest, dear sister, the Night King may destroy all our hopes and dreams, so why not plan for something good? After all your troubles, you certainly deserve some happiness.” Now she smiled, “I will talk to Jon. He will need to accept that you are not a babe anymore.”

\--------------------

That afternoon Arya returned to the forge. When Gendry stilled his hammer and cast an inquisitive expression in her direction, she said, “I have decided that I _do_ want you as a part of my life, and if you spoke to Jon about courting me, I would demand his approval.” 

Gendry’s smile became impossibly wide and his eyes sparkled. The young smith dropped his tools and seized Arya by the waist, initiating a deep tongue kiss, to which she immediately responded enthusiastically.

At that moment, Sandor Clegane entered the forge. Now that he possessed his own dependable weapon, the Hound wanted to make sure that the blacksmiths were still working hard to produce more swords. He wanted to survive the coming battle and hated that his life might depend on the soldiers around him, so he needed them all to be well-armed.

Sandor was startled to see Arya and Gendry embracing intimately, the girl pressing her breasts as close to the lad’s chest as possible. The she-wolf was grasping the close-cropped hair on his shorn head with one hand, the other clutching his back, while desperately trying to swallow his tongue. Gendry was holding Arya’s back tightly with one arm and the other was lower, close to her waist, and his fingers were twitching as though he would like to settle his hand on her arse but lacked the nerve.

Sandor chuckled, _Well, it seems that the wolf girl is not as cold a bitch as I thought! The bastard smith is in for it now! I cannot wait to embarrass her in front of the little bird and her uptight brother! That will be hilarious! Lord Snow will be angry and the little bird will press me for details. Mayhaps I will mention it at dinner tonight._ Grinning with anticipation at his intended jape, the Hound left the forge.

Arya and Gendry eventually broke their kiss, panting heavily, their eyes shining with pleasure. Gendry repeated the obvious, “So you will welcome my attention, milady?”

“Aye, with one condition,” she replied with a smirk.

“One condition?” he sounded worried.

“You must let your hair grow out again. I cannot believe that no one has told you how _awful_ your haircut looks, you stupid bull, and I need something to hold onto when I kiss you!”

Gendry bowed his head, “As my lady commands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this.
> 
> Fan Fiction writers thrive on caffeine and comments. Please let me know if you like the story. Thank you!


	2. Consummation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a long-time Gendrya fan I must come to grips with Sunday night’s action. For the narrative to go from flirting in Episode 1 to actual coitus in Episode 2 was unexpected and shocking. I had intended this little story to be a one-shot, but I am trying to make some sense of the sex scene. I know their encounter was driven by the timeframe of the plot, but that did not make it easier to accept. The only way to wrap my head around it is to write. I hope you like this second part.
> 
> This chapter was updated on April 28.

The army of White Walkers had been observed approaching Winterfell and the general feeling was that the final battle would be engaged on the morrow. The inhabitants of the castle were grimly preparing for likely death in their own individual ways: Drinking, talking with friends, singing, and reflecting on their lives.

Arya was practicing her archery in a storeroom when Gendry found her, offering her finished weapon as he approached. _I thought he might seek me out tonight,_ she thought with some confidence. Earlier, she had gone to the forge and insisted that he drop his other work and focus on her weapon. She had even questioned the quality of his craftsmanship, and he abruptly seized the dragonglass axe she was handling, slamming it deep into a wooden counter as he muttered, “Strong enough!” Her gaze followed him as he stalked away from her, and with a half-smile she thought, _I shall surrender my maidenhead to **him** tonight, but **I** shall be the conqueror!_ The air of the forge was cold, but the moment he had buried the blade in the wood she was surprised to realize that a surge of warm wetness had dampened her smallclothes and she felt a real sense of longing for the smith’s touch.

If Arya had simply desired to divest herself of her useless virginity, she could have sought out a squire named Pod, about whom she had heard the women whispering that he really knew how to pleasure a woman. But since returning to Westeros, it was Gendry’s face she saw in her dreams at night and she wanted to have the worshipful countenance of her old friend staring into hers as she transformed from a child into a woman. She was eagerly anticipating his seduction, and as she did so, there was another surge of wetness on her thighs. 

When the smith insultingly suggested that she hide in the crypts with the non-combatants, the Faceless Man proved that she was a serious fighter by demonstrating her skill with throwing knives. He immediately acceded to her wishes. Now she coolly inspected the blades of the unusual spear, tested its balance by twirling it dangerously close to him, and gave her approval, “This will work.” She offered no praise and he simply stood there awkwardly and silently.

She was quiet and withdrawn as she spun her new weapon, and the silence was becoming unnerving. He lamely attempted some small talk, “Last time you saw me, you wanted me to come to Winterfell. Took the long road, but…”

Gendry idly recalled that Arya had been practicing archery at the Hollow Hill on that fateful day when the Red Woman ‘bought’ him and took him away. Their lives had gone in different directions after that moment. Now she surprised him by ignoring his words and instead, suddenly inquiring about the Red Woman. She appeared startled when he confessed that he was Robert Baratheon’s bastard. .

Causing him to become defensive and uncomfortable, the she wolf then insistently questioned him about his experience with women and soon her meaning became clear – she expected to fall in the battle and did not want to die as a maiden. She looked into his face expectantly. Gendry realized that after all his years of dreaming of ravishing his lady; she wanted him as much as he desired her. He breathed, “Arya!” pronouncing her name like a prayer and bent to press his lips against hers initiating a clumsy, desperate kiss. Arya discovered that the first kiss awakened a strong sense of yearning in her belly, which only became more powerful with the deeper tangling of tongues during the second, more intimate kiss as Gendry returned her ardor. She wanted him inside her and she wanted it now!

Frantically they started to undress each other, and after helping him to pull his shirt over his head, she forcefully pushed him down on a pile of grain sacks, boldly staring at him with a playful grin. With a start, Gendry remembered a bold, angry, younger Arya also pushing him to the ground after revealing her identity to him. Today she was not angry, nae, she was the most self-confident young woman he had ever met. Startled, he realized, _she is toying with me!_ As if to prove his point, she ordered him to remove his breeches, smirking, “I’m not the Red Woman. Take your own bloody pants off!” He quickly fumbled with his laces, revealing himself to her gaze, hoping that the sight would delight her and soon their bodies would become one.

Arya smiled when she saw his large and erect manhood, but his cock was no stranger to her eyes. Years ago on the kingsroad, she had often peeked at him when he pissed against a tree, blatantly curious about his male appendage. Later in Harrenhal, after she had flowered, gazing at his bare chest as he worked in the smithy, she felt butterflies in her belly and pondered what it would be like to kiss and fondle him, and wondered how she would respond to his caresses. After wrestling with him on the floor of the dusty smithy at Acorn Hall, she _knew_ that she craved his touch. Now, at possibly the end of the world, was the opportunity to achieve some bliss, however brief.

Arya proceeded to pull her own shirt over her head and flung it away, displaying two magnificent vibrating breasts. ‘Arry’ had been binding her chest for years to disguise herself as a boy, and when she unwound the tight cloth, Gendry’s eyes widened, horrified first by the vicious scars cut into her torso, but then mesmerized by the splendid twin globes that he immediately craved to fondle and kiss. But the assertive wolf girl had other ideas. Awkwardly stepping out of her breeches, she stood gloriously nude before him as he stared more in shock than lust at her shapely and slim figure, the most beautiful sight his eyes had every gazed upon. She was all that he had dreamed of and more. Arya’s face bore a small smile as she flicked her hair back, climbed over his prone body, and with a soft grunt lowered herself onto his tumescent manhood. 

In all her dealings with Gendry, Arya had always made the decisions for both of them. Although she had no previous experience, she still intended to control their lovemaking, riding him as she would a horse. He had touched her sex when she had pressed against his cock, realizing that her center was hot, wet, and slippery, and he was pleased to learn that she intensely desired him. Because it was her first time, she was impossibly tight and was obviously in pain as she panted and pulsated against him. Her eyes were squeezed shut and small tears appeared at their edges, and her lower lip was gripped between her teeth. The brave warrior woman tried not to cry out in agony, but continued to rock above him, finally gasping when her maidenhead was penetrated. Gendry thrust upwards until he was buried deep within her and eventually her pleasure began to outweigh the pain of initial intercourse. The throbbing continued until Arya felt an intense and sweet spasm of satisfaction envelop her womb, and she gripped Gendry’s hips tightly with her thighs as she brought her knees up by his side and pressed her sex down even more firmly on his manhood, delighting in the slipperiness their ‘sword and sheath’ shared as they vibrated together. When the initial pleasure faded, she sighed and rolled off of him after he thrust one last time with a contented groan and his warm seed spilled inside of her, another act which also seemed to fulfill her needs. 

Gendry leaned over and kissed her forehead, then rose from their makeshift bed and went to a nearby washbasin. He found and dampened a clean cloth and wiped her maiden’s blood from his privates. Then he rinsed the cloth, returned to her and gently cleansed her thighs and sex, apologizing that the water was not warm.

Arya was lying back quietly, comfortably relaxed for the moment, and now Gendry climbed over her, intent on achieving his first impulse, which was to lavish attention on her lovely breasts - fondling, licking, and kissing each one in turn, and biting her small pert teats. She began to whimper with satisfaction and writhed against him as she became aroused. Gendry discovered that her legs were spread invitingly and her center was warm and wet, and with a moan he penetrated her cunny again, finding that it was easier to slide into her slippery channel now compared to the first time. Their second coupling was far more enjoyable for both of them, and Arya’s loud moans as she reached and attained her peak, and Gendry’s grunts would have been audible to anyone standing in the hallway, hopefully only a guardsman or even Tyrion, but definitely not Jon nor Sansa.

Afterwards, as they relaxed in a gentle embrace, Gendry softly said with a hint of guilt in his voice, “Arya, you should take moon tea in the morning.” 

She looked hard at him and laughed, “So you are really an optimist! Whether I drink moon tea or not will be no matter if the White Walkers prevail!” 

Gendry’s countenance became pained as she so cavalierly alluded to their likely death. Arya considered his obvious concern, and added, “Mayhaps I would like to carry your babe if I survive.” 

Now Gendry looked surprised and she continued with a serious expression, “Gendry, I have never told anyone, but I was forced to kill a stableboy with Needle in order to escape the Red Keep, and since that day, I have lived with death breathing over my shoulder. Mayhaps having your babe in my belly would make me feel alive again.”

He kissed her forehead again, “That would give us something to live for, milady.” 

In response, Arya turned a determined face to him, “Gendry, I want to fight by your side, and if I should fall, you must plunge a dragonglass dagger into my heart, for I do not want to become one of the undead.” 

Gendry grimaced, but nodded his assent, “And I expect you to do the same for me.”

Now Arya nodded, “We are in agreement, we live or die together.”

The wolf and the stag shared a chaste kiss and both fell into a troubled, restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what will happen next…….


	3. Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Winterfell was horrible and awesome. But it is over and the survivors can regroup and move on to the next challenge. Sorrowfully, among the thousands of brave fighters that lost their lives, several highly-valued (shall I even say loved?) major characters met their doom. In the case of some of the fallen, their deaths were not unexpected. As I studied the final scenes in which the lucky survivors were shown, I anxiously searched for Gendry and was disappointed that his fate was not revealed. However, I saw the trailer for Episode 4, which focused mainly on Cersei and Daenerys preparing for the final confrontation, and there was a very brief clip of Arya and Gendry sharing another passionate kiss. I would like to speculate on the significance of their second reunion.

The battle was over and the dazed survivors were milling around the courtyard of Winterfell. Cries of pleasure were constantly ringing out as person after person discovered that their loved ones were still among the living. The Starks - Sansa, Arya, Jon, and Bran hugged each other tightly and whispered, “You are alive!”

When Arya broke her embrace with her siblings, her eyes were anxiously searching the courtyard for someone else in particular. Early in the battle they had been separated; Gendry was desperately fighting for survival and Arya had a mission to complete. The crowd parted and she saw a bloody and limping, but very much alive Gendry searching for her. Their eyes met and Arya’s heart gave a leap. Gendry’s face broke into a smile and he hobbled quickly towards his meaning for life, noting that she appeared to be as physically damaged as he felt. 

Arya ran to him and clutched him tightly as his strong arms enveloped her and almost lifted her off the ground. Staring at each other with tears forming in their eyes, they exclaimed at the same time, “You are alive!” Casting all restraint to the wind, Arya initiated a deep and passionate kiss, which he returned with equal fervor. Gendry, the more emotional one of the pair, desperately breathed, “I could not go on if you had died!” and almost sobbed with relief.

Sansa and Jon stared in shock at the sight. Their little sister had returned to Winterfell as a cold, emotionless, unsentimental warrior, but in the young smith’s arms, she appeared merely as a young girl in love. Sansa and Jon turned to each other with open mouths and expressions of disbelief and Jon blurted out, “What?!”

Bran cleared his throat and the older siblings looked at his calm face. Evenly, the young seer explained, “Arya and the smith have a history. They escaped the evil Lannisters and King’s Landing together as children and depended on each other to survive many horrors for several years. Their separation was unwanted and unpleasant. They had not seen each other for a long time and both assumed the other was probably dead. They have only been reunited for a few days and it is obvious that their friendship is even stronger that before."

Sansa was shaking her head and half-smiling as she murmured, “I just cannot imagine my obnoxious little sister with a boy!”

Jon looked less than comfortable and frowned, “Gendry is a good man, but he is a bastard! I do like him but this relationship is not appropriate and we cannot condone it.”

Bran corrected his brother, “Gendry may be a bastard, but know that his father was King Robert Baratheon. He is now the last of that line. Gendry served well in this battle and his dragonglass weapons were essential for our victory. If Queen Daenerys legitimizes him, and if they are both inclined, they can wed as the Lord and Lady of Storm’s End.”

Sansa giggled, “Arya marry! _And_ become a Lady! I would like to see that!”

Calmly Barn added, “Before all this happened, King Robert said to Father, ‘I have a son, you have a daughter. We shall join our houses’.”

Sansa’s eyes widened, “He was talking about Joffrey and me!”

“Mayhaps Arya and Gendry are really the alliance that was to be,” Bran replied sagely.

\--------------------

After several wonderful minutes, Arya and Gendry finally broke their kiss, panting heavily with emotion and stared at each other. Neither had really believed that they might be in this position. Arya realized that their spontaneous coupling of the previous night was not just a casual and desperate act of two panicked soldiers expecting to die, but the expression of affection between old friends who now had the opportunity to build the relationship that would fulfill their lives. It was time to talk about it. 

“Ar’a,” Gendry sighed worshipfully, again pronouncing her name as if it were a prayer, an intonation which, she noticed was beginning to give her a thrill in her belly, “I lost you, then I found you, and then I almost lost you again. I am _never_ going to be parted from you, milady. I want to be with you always.” He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead with much affection. 

She gazed at him when he opened his beautiful blue eyes again, and she saw love for her in them, a love as powerful as she had seen in her father’s and Jon’s eyes, but not a love derived from blood relationship, but from shared experiences and passion. She had been a cherished daughter and sister, and later a heartless killing machine, but now in Gendry’s embrace, she was a _woman,_ the expression of a new and profound emotion that she was beginning to savor.

But first and foremost, the former independent tomboy and Faceless Man, was coldly practical. Stroking his strong arms and broad back, _Gods, I love his body,_ Arya earnestly replied, “Gendry, I _do_ want to be with you. But I have one more task to do and for that I must leave Winterfell as soon as I can. Do not think I am abandoning you.”

Gendry frowned and furrowed his brow, retorting darkly, “One more task, you say. It must be your bloody list! I’ll wager that you intend to go to King’s Landing to kill Queen Cersei, even if it brings on your death!” He gripped her tightly and scowled in anger.

Arya did not respond, but just stared at him with wide grey eyes, unsure how to deal with his intensity. “I won’t have it!” Gendry exclaimed, “If you are going to King’s Landing, I am going with you! We will not be separated again!” The impassioned boy was almost shouting.

Although he was holding her more forcefully than she would ever have tolerated, Arya did not pull away. She stroked the stubble on his dirty cheek and considered, _And I do not want to be parted from him again either!_ “All right,” Arya sighed, “It may be dangerous, but you may accompany me. I will expect you to respect my orders if I plan to do something that you do not like.”

With some hesitation, Gendry nodded his approval, “Aye, as usual, I will follow you orders. I will not question your authority, milady.” Arya smiled with satisfaction and then Gendry smirked, “I even expect you to continue to order me around in the bedroom.”

Arya almost blushed like a maiden at his words, recalling the previous night, and now she also felt a twinge of desire, _Hmmm, I wonder how soon we can have some privacy!_ She realized that her siblings were watching her closely and she hoped that they had not seen Gendry’s lustful expression at that moment. _I must go talk to them,_ she thought, _I am sure they have many questions. I do not care if they disapprove of Gendry, when have I ever cared what others think? I never thought much about marriage, mayhaps I could be happy just sharing Gendry’s bed in the forge. After all, don’t I deserve a reward for killing the Night King?_ The bold wolf girl smirked inwardly, _Gendry’s cock would be a fitting reward!_

She was about to break the embrace and go over to her siblings, but another thought came into her mind. Last night Gendry had suggested that she take moon tea and she had dismissed the idea. Now she was alive and his seed was in her womb. In her ardor she had certainly made sure of that fact, pulling his manhood as deeply as possible inside of her in her quest for fulfillment, and feeling Gendry’s satisfaction as he spilled his seed. Now she was forced to make a decision. 

Leaning back within his arms, Arya looked up into Gendry’s face and asked, “Gendry, last night you advised me to take moon tea. How do you feel today?” 

Gendry’s open face looked hopeful, “If you decide not to take moon tea, milady, I will marry you. When Thoros of Myr told me that he was convinced that I was Robert Baratheon’s son, he said one of the watchwords of my House is ‘The seed is strong!’”

“What does that mean?” the puzzled girl enquired.

“It means that you are definitely pregnant already and will bear me a fine big boy with black hair and bright blue eyes!” the young smith replied boldly and with some pride.

Arya was irritated by his boldness and retorted, “Well, the seed of House Stark is _also_ strong and if I bear a babe, I wager _she_ will be lean and strong, with chestnut hair and grey eyes!”

The Stark siblings had observed the entire conversation and intimate behavior and could wait no longer. Sansa began to push Bran’s chair towards the entwined and arguing couple, with a questioning look on her face. Jon was marching by her side and he seemed furious. His fingers twitched on the pommel on his sword, for as they discussed babes, Gendry’s hand had unconsciously slipped lower on Arya’s back to settle on the sweet little arse he loved so much. Jon would not allow _anyone_ to take such liberties with his baby sister! And he was very shocked that she accepted his behavior! Jon was totally confused, but Bran was simply smiling.

Looking over Arya’s shoulder and seeing her impatient siblings approaching them, Gendry said, “In any case, milady, you will need to decide immediately what we are to each other, and what you intend to do, for we will shortly have company!” 

Arya turned around and saw her concerned family moving towards her. Her stomach dropped and she panicked, _What am I to say to them?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to leave this open for the moment.
> 
> I hope something like this happens, but there are rarely happy endings in “Game of Thrones”.


	4. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Much of this chapter is sweet enough to rot your teeth. If you have an aversion to fluffy Gendrya, I suggest that you skip the cute parts. What follows is my pipe dream of “Game of Thrones” events.
> 
> This chapter could be sub-titled “Four Men with Loosened Tongues in a Bar”. I realized that the Hound would be the perfect catalyst for a meeting between Jon and Gendry. All three love Arya, but in different ways. The heartless killer also has a soft spot for Sansa Stark, his ‘little bird’. The opportunity is too good to pass up.
> 
> My imagination is fueled by equal parts of ‘GoT HBO’, ‘ASoIaF’, and Disney fairy tales. Make of that what you will.

Previously:

Looking over Arya’s shoulder and seeing her impatient siblings approaching them, Gendry said, “In any case, milady, you will need to decide immediately what we are to each other, and what you intend to do, for we will shortly have company!” 

Arya turned around and saw her concerned family moving towards her. Her stomach dropped and she panicked, _What am I to say to them?!_

\--------------------

Jon stalked angrily towards the couple, murder in his eyes. If he had been a real wolf, his canines would have been bared, and the hackles on his back would have been raised.

Gendry directed a nervous half-smile at Lady Sansa and surreptitiously removed his hand from Arya’s arse. He prayed that no one had noticed. 

“Unhand my sister, _Ser!_ ” Jon snarled, still clutching the pommel of his sword, “You forget yourself in being so familiar with an innocent maiden!”

With a nervous smile, Gendry immediately released Arya from his embrace and ducked his head, “Forgive me, milord,” he stammered, “I have nothing but respect for the lady,” his face turning red. 

_I’m far from an innocent maiden!_ Arya thought, and decided to be forthright with her family. “Actually, brother, you should not be alarmed if Gendry holds me closely, as he is family now,” she coolly volunteered.

Jon looked startled and his head snapped in Arya’s direction. “ _Family?_ ” he replied with some puzzlement.

“Aye, _family._ In a sense, Gendry and I comprise, er, a betrothed couple.”

Sansa put her hand over her mouth, and exclaimed, “Oh! Arya!”

Silent Bran wore a small, knowing smile, and Jon swayed on his feet and then abruptly sat down on the ground. “Sweet sister, what have you done?!” he lamented with dismay in his voice.

With a sigh and an intake of breath, Arya seized the flustered smith’s hand and explained, “Gendry and I were very close friends when we were children long ago. Last night we believed that we would not live to see another sunset and decided that our last hours together should be meaningful.”

Sansa’s eyes widened at the implication of her words and Jon moaned loudly whilst covering his face with his hands, unconcerned at how vulnerable he appeared. Gendry shifted uncomfortably. Finally Bran smoothly asked, “What do you plan to do now?”

Arya considered for a minute and firmly said, “I need to confer with my sister, _alone!_ You men go to the Great Hall and share some ale.” They nodded slowly in agreement. “And, Jon?” her older brother raised his eyes, “Do not kill anyone!”

The girls went to Sansa’s chamber, Sansa having affectionately placed her arm around Arya’s waist as they walked. Even before the she-wolf began to speak, Sansa immediately took a cloth and started to clean her sister’s wounds, assessing if any would scar. Arya finally ventured, “I need your advice. I know that you are surprised because I have never done this before, but I am serious now and value your opinion.”

Sansa appeared very curious and asked, “What is on your mind, sweet sister?”

Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, “I must decide whether or not to drink moon tea before this day passes.”

Sansa did not appear as surprised as Arya expected. Staring at her, Arya blushed, realizing that Sansa probably had already assumed that she had been intimate with Gendry. Wrapping her arm around her baby sister, Sansa merely chuckled, “I am relieved that you did not make that announcement before Jon. I doubt that he would take it well. I hope that Gendry is safe even as we speak.”

Arya appeared worried but Sansa assured her, “Arya, I do not think that Jon would slay your future husband. I must say that Gendry is truly a handsome man, and his face is full of love when he looks at you. You have always said that you never wanted to be married, and I believed you when you first returned, for you were so cold and distant. But now when I see you with Gendry, I think that you will never find a better mate.”

“I am not sure if I want a mate,” Arya murmured uncertainly.

“Well, consider this, Arya, if you are not wed by the time your belly begins to swell, Jon will take Gendry’s head off and there is not a man in this castle who would disapprove of his action. They would even find him and hold him down if he tried to escape.”

Arya softly murmured again, “I do not want Gendry to die.”

“If you take moon tea now, mayhaps there will be other opportunities to conceive a babe, that is, if you really want one.”

Arya bit her lip, “Gendry surely wants one.”

“Then you must speak to him before you make your decision.”

“That is good advice. I will, when I can get him safely away from Jon.”

Shyly, Sansa asked, “Arya, did you enjoy lying with Gendry?”

Arya looked at her with the sweetest smile, one that Sansa had _never_ seen before on her hostile, angry, little sister’s face. “I will be in his embrace again tonight. There is no doubt of that. If Jon had not approached us with murder in his eyes, we would be lying naked together at this moment. He makes me feel beautiful and truly alive”

Sansa sighed, “You do not know how lucky you are.”

Now it was Arya’s turn to be the consoling sister, “Surely, you will find a man to love. You are beautiful and all the men look at you with awe.”

Sansa’s face turned hard and dark, and she replied bitterly, “I have only known the worst of men that have tried to bed me. Besides Father and Jon, the only men who have truly loved me would be totally inappropriate matches. In fact, I am repulsed by men and never want another one to touch me!”

Arya felt sorrow for the hurt in her sister’s voice, _It is so sad that she has never experienced what I have now._ She had no idea what to do for her sibling.

Sansa shook off her discontent. She was actually pleased to be having this intimate conversation with Arya. They had never been close as children, and since Jeyne Poole was taken from her, she sorely missed female companionship. Now she truly had a little sister with whom to banter and tease. Her lovely face changed into the happy expression that had always drawn the attention of others. Smiling now at Arya, she said, “Enough of this darkness. We must celebrate being alive!” Her Tully blue eyes sparkling with mischief and she suggested, “Arya, when we go to the Great Hall for dinner tonight, you should wear a dress for Gendry! I wager he would like that!”

Arya’s face took on a faraway gaze and she recalled ‘The Peach’ and ‘Acorn Hall’. With some fondness due to the seemingly sweet memory at this point in her life, Arya softly replied, “Gendry has seen me in a dress, twice, when we were children. The first time I had been cleaned up by a lady and stuffed into a stupid dress with acorns on the bodice and sides. Gendry took one look at me and laughed and wine came out of his nose. Later, he inspected me closely, as if for the first time he realized that I really _was_ a girl. He told me that I looked nice, like a nice oak tree. Gods, he can be so _stupid!_ Sometimes I think Gendry has more _cock_ than _brains!_ Not that there is anything wrong with that!”

Sansa looked shocked but only giggled at the story. Never in her life had she had so much fun with her unusual sister. 

“The second time we were at a brothel….”

“Oh, Arya!”

“When the whores learned that I was a girl, they forced me into a bath, even when I protested that I just had a bath only two weeks earlier, and put me in a girly dress of linen and lace like a porcelain doll. Later, Gendry chased away an old lecher who tried to take advantage of me and I yelled at him.” Arya sighed, “I was often so mean to him in those days. It is a wonder that even likes me.”

“Well, it is obvious that he cares for you deeply now, and you should be content.” 

“I suppose you are right. And we need to discuss this babe in my belly, if it truly exists already. Let us go find the boys and talk to them. I hope Jon is still sane.”

\--------------------

The three lads sat at a table in the Great Hall of Winterfell, a flagon of ale in front of each one. The din of revelry filled the hall, but they only sipped from their tankards slowly and quietly, ignoring the celebration. Arya had _suggested_ that they go to the Hall and talk, but to all three youths her words were taken as a command. The wolf princess was _most_ imperious. 

Jon stared at Gendry. Prior to today he had appreciated the young smith and felt comfortable with him, as they were both bastards, struggling to make places for themselves in a cruel world. Ever since he saw Gendry with his hand casually fondling his little sister’s buttocks, he was furious with the smith. In her breeches, it was obvious that Arya possessed a sweet little arse, one that any man would crave to fondle, and it grated on him that Gendry seemed to have such a careless familiarity with it. He cursed himself for dwelling on the fact that she _did_ have such a fine bottom, and tried to dispel his thoughts on that matter. He should definitely _not_ be brooding about his baby sister’s lovely figure! Poor Jon was totally flummoxed and wanted to take all his frustration out on the smith. 

Looking closely, Jon recognized that Gendry was indeed a very handsome lad – large, well-muscled, powerful, with a strong jaw, sleek black hair, and bright blue eyes. Serving girls were constantly approaching to refill his tankard, and Jon saw them rake their eyes over his frame. One was even bold enough to bend over and practically shove her teats in his face, but he apparently took no notice. 

_Aye, he is certainly ‘a maiden’s dream’ and could bed any wench he desires,_ Jon pondered, _mayhaps he seduced Arya and forced himself upon her._ But he realized immediately what a ridiculous notion that was. By now he was well-acquainted with his fierce warrior sister. She was no gullible maiden susceptible to seduction. _Arya takes what she wants, and I’ll wager that mayhaps **she** seduced the smith!_ he considered with some vexation.

Suddenly, the trio felt the Hound’s enormous shadow looming over them. Clegane waved for a serving woman and roared, “Wine!” He seized the goblet from the trembling girl’s hands, took a sip and bared an evil smile, “Ahh!” Then he peered down into Bran’s tankard and loudly asked, “What in the bloody hell are _you_ drinking, Raven?!”

“Autumnal mead,” Barn volunteered evenly.

“Shite!” Clegane exploded and shook his head in disgust. Then he slapped his huge hand on Gendry’s shoulder, but the smith barely flinched. A lesser man might have been thrown to the ground. “I envy you, Baratheon bastard!” the Hound leered, “You must have a way with the ladies! I always thought that the wolf girl was a stone cold bitch, but after seeing her trying to choke you with her tongue and straddle your loins in the forge, I’ll wager the little urchin is as hot as the fire in your furnace! Ha! It was about time she got stuck with the pointy end! Did she wear out your cock, lad?!”

Gendry looked startled, but Jon instantly jumped to his feet. “You go too far, _Ser!_ I’ll have your _head_ for disrespecting my sister so!” he shouted, his eyes flashing with anger, and began to pull Longclaw out of his belt, spoiling for a fight.

The Great Hall immediately went quiet and all heads turned in their direction. Before Jon could fully draw his sword, Clegane quickly stepped back and raised both hands in supplication. With a more calming tone of voice, he replied, “Hold, dragon boy! And I ain’t no bloody knight! I was only japing! I know the she-wolf well and _do_ respect her skills, some of which _I_ taught her meself! Alls I meant was that I’m glad that she has found some measure of fucking happiness with our clueless smith here! He’s a good lad, if a bit simple, but she seems to favor him, and if he can keep her in a good mood, there is less of a chance of anyone getting stabbed by her fucking Needle!”

Jon reseated his weapon and sat down again, confused and not completely sure if Clegane’s words were actually an apology, but decided not to pursue the matter. He was aware that the Hound had saved the lives of _both_ his sisters several times, and for that Jon owed the crude soldier some latitude. Arya actually grudgingly considered the Hound a friend, and Jon had even noticed Sansa staring at the huge man’s back with a small smile when she thought no one was looking. Reluctantly, Jon motioned for Sandor to join them. Bran had watched the whole episode with obvious amusement and was following every word.

As the Hound pulled out a chair and sat down, bearing an expression that was more smirk than smile, the tension left the chamber. The revelry started up again, and the curious faces turned away. “So it is you and the wolf girl, heh?” Clegane addressed Gendry again as Jon watched closely. Cautiously, Gendry nodded, observing Jon’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. “She’s a good lass, if a bit wild, and deserves some happiness after all she has been through. If she favors you, be grateful. She doesn’t like many people and is more like to kill someone than shake their hand. The two of you do look good together.”

Both Jon and Gendry were amazed to see this side of the heavily scarred man, as legend had it that he was simply a mad murderer. Somehow the Stark sisters, or mayhaps the wine, brought out his softer side. Turning to glare at Jon, he accused, “And if you were a real fucking brother, you would find someone to make the Lady Sansa happy! The little bird has walked through the seven hells, and she can’t even handle a weapon like the wolf girl does, yet she lived! Shite, that girl is a survivor, too!”

“Aye, I am glad of that myself,” Jon choked out, not believing the conversation.

Ferocious once more, Clegane continued, “The little bird is a pretty one. Surely you can find a good match for her! You owe it to her! And _not_ the Imp!”

Jon was bewildered. _I swear there is a wistful tone to his voice! What in the seven hells does that mean?!_ Taking a deep breath, Jon slowly replied as he looked from Clegane to Gendry, “When we defeat the Lannisters and there is truly peace in the land, I will devote my attention to my sisters’ happiness. I vow it on my honor.”

Sandor leaned back in his chair, which creaked under his weight, and raised his goblet, “Good!” was all he said and drank deeply. Bran still appeared amused and Gendry looked relieved.

When Bran drew Jon’s attention for a serious, low conversation, the Hound immediately leaned towards Gendry and roughly whispered, “Out with it, lad! What does the little wolf look like under her leathers?” 

Gendry flushed red but replied honestly, “She is beautiful! My heart almost stopped!”

Sandor grinned again and signaled for a serving girl to refill his goblet. As she poured the wine, he squeezed her arse. The wench saw his scars and turned away with a disdainful expression on her face. Gendry noticed a flicker of disappointment quickly pass over Clegane’s damaged features. “The wolf girl was never afraid to look at my face,” the Hound muttered, “Seven hells! She was the only person I have met who was _not_ afraid of me! I saved the little bird’s life and it took _all_ her courage just to look into my face and thank me!”

He looked accusingly at Gendry and snorted, “I spent six bloody months with the wolf girl’s sour bitch face, and all you have to do is blink those pretty blue eyes and she smiles like a simpering maiden! Lucky bastard!”

Gendry had no idea what to say, so he just took another drink. Clegane seemed to have much to relate. “Sometimes I told her the nastiest things I could think of just to piss her off, and she would glare up at me with such hate in her eyes. She was such a tiny thing; I could have crushed her in one hand. She would threaten that someday she would stick her little sword through my eye and out the back of my head! I could not have been prouder of her! She could have been my daughter!”

The smith was perplexed by the Hound’s twisted sense of reality and said nothing, just nodding as the man rambled. Clegane leaned closer. “Did she tell you about the time we ran into that cunt Polliver, one of my brother’s men, the one who took her precious Needle and killed her useless friend, I think his name was Lommy?”

Gendry shook his head no, curious about the story. “We were at an inn, and the arsehole thought that the wolf girl was my camp follower. He asked me how she was and suggested I let him have a go at her. Ha! You should have seen her face when she realized that I might let him rape her! Well, I hate the Mountain’s men and they have no love for me, either. We were all itching for a fight and when it began, Arya snuck up on Polliver and stabbed him. She took her Needle back and started to poke him like a pin cushion! I don’t know if she was madder that he had killed that Lommy or because he had wanted to fuck her! That cunt was bleeding out completely when I pulled her off him and told her we had to go right quick. Ha!”

Clegane took another sip of wine and continued, his eyes glowing, “That’s the kind of bitch you want at your back in a fight!”

The Hound had been so open that Gendry felt the need to reply. “She was the youngest and smallest of all of us, yet she was our leader after Yoren was killed. Arya just naturally assumed command. Later at Harrenhal, she urged us to escape with her from that cursed castle. She convinced me to steal swords, Hot Pie grabbed food from the kitchen, and she stole us horses from the stables in the dead of night. We only got out alive because she killed the guard at the postern gate herself. She wouldn’t talk about it, but I saw that her hands and the cuffs of her jerkin were soaked with blood when she grabbed the reins of her horse. I would be dead today if I had not left with her then.”

Sandor nodded, “Aye, the wolf girl is a tough one, that she is.”

Frowning with concern, Gendry impulsively added, “Clegane, she has the most awful scars! Someone almost killed her!”

The Hound smiled grimly, “She is not easy to kill. The bitch does not need protection, but guard her well anyway.”

Gendry nodded, “I will.”

Clegane sighed and made to stand up. “I need some sleep and since none of these wenches seem inclined to allow me to use their teats as my pillow, I might as well find a cot in the barracks. Goodbye, lucky bastard!”

The Hound staggered away, wobbly on his feet from too much wine and memories, and Gendry felt some sadness, _no one has ever loved him. Such a shame!_

As he left the Hall, Sandor accidently brushed against a guardsman, knocking him to the floor. The man returned to his feet, and noting the Hound’s size, decided not to challenge him. 

But before leaving, he stopped by Jon’s chair and slapped him on the back, almost knocking him over. “Don’t be so hard on the smith, dragon boy or wolf king, whatever the fuck you call yourself now. He is a good lad and is only doing the same as you with the dragon queen. You know what I mean? Pounding a wet and willing wench hard as she squirms underneath you and shrieks your name when she reaches her pleasure. And I’ll wager you like that sound, heh?”

Jon just blushed at the truth of his words, but did not reply as Clegane left. He certainly did not want to think about Gendry and his little sister like that. He turned to Bran. “What a strange man,” was all he said. 

Bran fixed Jon with a serious look, “You realize that the Hound loves both our sisters. He would never admit it or act inappropriately, but he loves them just the same.”

Jon quirked his eyebrows, “Really?”

The young seer continued, “He saved both their lives several times. He killed for them. He bled for them. He proudly wears scars on his body from blades meant for them. And all he is thought of is as a heartless killer. There is more to Clegane than people know. He is a good man.”

“What should we do for him?” Jon considered.

"He is an unhappy man and I doubt anything will make him happy. Knight him and appoint him Sansa’s sworn shield. She is unhappy, too, and they can be unhappy together.”

“But Clegane sneers at knights!”

“He would accept it if you told him the purpose. Ask Arya if you don’t believe me. She spent six months in hell with him and knows his mind.”

“And Sansa?”

“Strangely enough, I think she would be pleased. Neither would ever discuss it, but they would be content with the situation.”

“I’ll give it some thought.”

“Do that.”

Jon sighed and realized that he still needed to discuss matters with Gendry. The young smith was brooding over his tankard, reflecting on the Hound’s words. He was startled into reality when Jon asked, “Ser Gendry, what are your intentions with my sister? I will not dwell on the fact that this question may be late in the game.”

Gendry took a deep breath and boldly retorted, “I mean to wed Arya Stark, milord, _if_ she will have me.”

Jon was becoming wise and huffed, “She may _not_ have a choice in the matter. I love my sister, but Arya is spoiled, independent, self-centered, and dangerous. Do you really desire to join your life to hers? It will not be easy, Gendry. You know that she is not like other girls.”

Earnestly, Gendry replied, “I met her as a child and have loved her since our very first argument. I am most familiar with her unique nature and value it highly. I prefer her over any other girl and have always felt this way. I tell you truly, milord, no matter what you decide, I will _never_ lose her again!”

“Well, Ser Gendry,” Jon smiled wryly, “we will go talk to Arya and Sansa. Arya says that you are family now, so it is only fitting that the girls be involved in this discussion. Bran has already given you a vote of confidence. And no more of this ‘milord’ stuff, just call me Jon.”

“Aye, milo.., er, Jon.”

“And one more thing, Gendry?”

“Aye,....Jon?”

“Please limit the public displays of affection. We do not need the entire castle looking at your hand on my sister’s bottom!”

“Aye, milord! Oops, Jon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may all be a waste of energy. I have no idea what D&D have planned for us concerning Arya and Gendry.


	5. Clegane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The Hound as Sansa’s and Bran’s sworn shield.” Hmmm. I haven’t resolved the “possible pregnancy of Arya” issue, but this sidebar will not leave me alone. Until D&D entertain us with more of their plot, enjoy this confection. The previous warning applies: This chapter is as fluffy as a pair of bunny slippers, although there is brief darkness.

Previously:

"The Hound is an unhappy man and I doubt anything will make him happy. Knight him and appoint him Sansa’s sworn shield. She is unhappy, too, and they can be unhappy together.”

\--------------------

More than two days had passed since the defeat of the Night King’s army. The fallen heroes had been honored and mourned and the surviving heroes had been feted. Queen Daenerys was firmly in charge and had called her captains together to plan for the war against the Lannisters. Her combined armies had suffered grievous losses during the Battle of Winterfell, but she had dragons, ships, and determination. The permanent residents of the castle were working hard to restore their beloved home to its former glory. Gendry had managed to pry himself loose from Arya for a few hours to forge an elaborate set of hinges to repair the damaged doors to the Great Hall.

The Stark siblings observed that Arya and Gendry had completely vanished on the first day after the battle, and finally appeared together in the Great Hall for the evening feast on the second evening. The tale of the fierce warrior maiden, Arya Stark, the Vanquisher of the Long Night, was beginning to spread. History remembered eight thousand years of proud Stark warrior kings and queens, lords and ladies, and Arya’s name would surely join the revered list of legendary heroes. 

With that in mind, the participants at the feast were surprised to see the younger Lady Stark arrive on the arm of a tall, handsome young man who bore a startling resemblance to the late King Robert Baratheon, _and_ wearing an pretty gown. While Gendry was working in the forge, Arya had gone to Sansa, who had found an attractive, modest grey dress for her, brushed out her shoulder-length chestnut hair, dabbed berry juice on her lips, and added a light coat of kohl around her eyes. Framed by her strikingly thick and dark eyebrows, Arya’s countenance appeared as comely as that of her lovely sister, and the Northern bannermen beamed with pride and affection at the sight of Ned Stark’s precious daughters. The couple took their places on the high dais, as word had spread that the bastard smith was actually highborn, and Jon narrowed his eyes and whispered sotto voce, “So good of _both_ of you to join us. We feared that you had drowned!” Both Arya and Gendry blushed, and now Jon smiled and laughed as Sansa mirrored her brother’s amusement.

\--------------------

On the third afternoon after the battle, Jon requested that his servant fetch the Hound to his solar. Clegane arrived, with a wicked grin on his twisted lips. “I reckon that you wanted to learn more about the little wolf and the bastard smith, dragon boy. Well, I first saw them together when they were ‘guests’ of Beric Dondarrion. By the way they traded glances, I knew they wanted to fuck each other, but were too young and green to even know what to do. Ha! Imagine Beric’s reaction if he had caught them playing the 'sword and sheath' together! Well, they are making up for lost time now! I’ll wager they have not worn clothes for two days now!”

“Clegane!” Jon said wearily. He did not want to hear this.

“The other blacksmiths say that the Baratheon bastard has a cock the size of a tree. Your sister must be sore as hell and can barely walk from all that hammering!” 

“CLEGANE!!!”

“The wolf girl really knows how to handle weapons, I’ll give her that. I reckon that she is swallowing his sword right now!”

 **“CLEGANE!!"** Jon had jumped out of his chair, “Please stop!” He wiped his brow and took a deep breath, thinking, _the last image I need in my mind is Arya bestowing the “Lady’s Kiss” on Gendry!_

Sandor smirked, knowing that he had achieved his goal of discomfiting the flustered Stark sibling. “Well, I'll wager that is as much as you wanted to know. Was there another purpose for calling me here?”

Recovering his composure, Jon nodded, “Very soon, everyone who can fight will be marching or sailing to confront Queen Cersei. A sufficiently large enough force will be left behind to defend Winterfell, however I worry about the personal safety of my sister Sansa and my brother Bran. I have seen you fight. You are a one-man army, Clegane. I would like to appoint you as the sworn shield to my siblings.”

The Hound’s eyes bugged out, “You want me to guard your sister?!”

“Aye, I trust you to protect them with your life. Consider this an honor that will wash away your past crimes.”

He was about to argue about the notion of ‘his past crimes’, but instead replied, “I am not a knight.”

“I would knight you so you could take this position. Would you accept knighthood?”

Sandor imaged himself attired in proud armor, standing next to his little bird. He slowly nodded, “I would, but only because it is necessary for what you want me to do.” He would not elaborate, he might say too much.

Jon stood up and reached _way_ up to clap the man on the shoulder. “Good! Let us go inform Lady Sansa on our agreement.” 

\--------------------

Jon knocked on the door to Sansa’s solar and the two men entered. Sansa was standing by the window singing and Sandor’s heart stopped. He had heard her voice in King’s Landing. It had been the sweetest sound his ears had ever been honored to receive, and he was dumbstruck by her talent again. Sansa turned and looked quizzically at them and Sandor made an enormous effort to keep his mouth clamped shut. Sansa’s handmaidens had not braided her hair yet, and the long auburn tresses flowed down her back. The masons had recently fixed the underground hot water heating system that warmed the walls of the castle, so cloaks and other outer garments were no longer necessary inside the keep. Sansa was wearing a lightweight linen gown, and although it was buttoned right up to her throat and the sleeves covered her arms to her wrists, the material hugged her body closely, accentuating the lush curves of her perfect womanly figure. Beads of sweat broke out on Sandor’s forehead and he suppressed a gulp. He was mesmerized, but the sight of Sansa always did that to him. He realized that he was becoming aroused and hoped that his chainmail and heavy tunic hid the evidence.

As Sansa walked towards them, Jon announced, “Ser Sandor has agreed to become sworn shield to you and Bran.”

To his surprise, Sansa stared directly at his face and addressed _him,_ not Jon, “So it is _Ser_ Sandor now, is it? You always insisted that you spit on knights, Clegane. Have you changed your mind?” The Hound did not know that Arya had told her sister how much it distressed him that people would not look him in the eye, and he had admitted as much when he told the wolf girl that he appreciated that she had never been afraid of his scars. Sansa was determined not to be that frightened little girl any more.

“It was necessary if I was to take on the obligation that Jon asked of me,” he croaked, hoping that his words made some sense.

Sansa nodded and swiftly twirled around, her lovely auburn hair and the folds of her loose skirt swirling with her movement. She gracefully glided (to Sandor she was floating on air) to a nearby table to pour three goblets of Arbor Gold for them, as skillfully as a proper matron, and motioned for the men to join her. Clegane’s eyes had been fixed on the rolling of her shapely arse and hips as she walked, and thought, _If I do not find a whore within one hour of leaving this room, my brain will explode!_ Jon made a toast and Sandor took a sip of the wine. It was delicious and he drained the goblet in one gulp, smacking his lips with pleasure. 

As Sansa refilled his goblet, she asked, “I take it that you like the taste of this vintage, _Ser_ Clegane?”

A bit more relaxed, Sandor volunteered, “Aye, milady, I am used to wine that tastes little better than piss!”

Jon’s head swiveled to stare at him, but Sansa laughed softly and queried, “So you are familiar with the taste of piss, Sandor?”

The Hound’s face colored, “It is only an expression, milady. I have not drunk piss, at least not knowingly.”

“I am relieved to hear that, Sandor,” Sansa smiled.

Jon had been watching closely, now thinking, _It is as Bran said, there is something going on between these two!_ He spoke up now, “I will leave you both to discuss the arrangements, while I go to inform Bran.” He kissed his dear sister on the cheek and bid her adieu. 

After Jon had left, Sansa addressed the Hound again, “Ser Sandor, I fear that you have agreed to be bored, because when I am done with my duties as the Lady of Winterfell each morning, I retire to my solar to do needlework with my handmaidens,” nodding at the two girls sitting by the wall, working on their embroidery. “Mayhaps you would like to spend your time playing cyvasse or reading from my library. I have countless volumes of poetry and romantic literature.”

“I am not overly fond of cyvasse,” Clegane rasped.

“Then it will have to be my library,” Sansa’s eyes twinkled, “Mayhaps you can read poetry aloud while we ladies sew.”

Sandor was startled, but realized that she was deliberately teasing him. He felt a small surge of anger and raising his voice, he brusquely replied as he glared at her, “You are _toying_ with me, little bird!” 

To his surprise, she smiled broadly, “Ah, _that_ is the Sandor I have been waiting to see! I was afraid you had gotten meek since we parted!”

The Hound felt more in control again and growled, “I have killed a _fuckload_ of men since we parted, little bird. Don’t ever think of _me_ as getting meek!”

Sansa’s eyes widened and her pretty cheeks flushed slightly. “Oh my, I _do_ remember how angry you used to be!”

Sandor stared and thought, _I may be insane, but the little bird appears aroused!_ He shook his head in disbelief and was desperate to change the subject, any subject!

Luckily, Sansa stepped in. “Sandor, if you are to be my shield, you will require a new guardsman cloak. My maidens and I will sew and embroider it. Now, what color should it be? Mayhaps grey would be best, as I am sure that a white cloak no longer pleases you.”

With a shock, a memory came to mind, hitting him like a bucket of cold water. It was the Battle of the Blackwater, so long ago. There were flames and wildfire, and he was truly afraid for his life and sanity. He fled the fighting like a coward, quickly got drunk on wine and went to Sansa’s chamber with the insane idea of taking her out of King’s Landing. 

Sansa had come in and gasped at the blood on his face from his many wounds, also noting how his white Kingsguard cloak was soaked red with blood and soiled with the filth of the battle. He tried to talk her into fleeing with him for her safety, but only succeeding in fucking everything up, threatening her and scaring her to death, and although she was not much more than a child at the time, he climbed over her and made it clear that he wanted to fuck her. It was no wonder that she had problems with him.

And yet, when he later learned how Littlefinger and Ramsey Bolton had raped and abused her, he bitterly thought that mayhaps he should have just thrown her, such a little thing, his little bird, over his shoulder, and despite any protestation, escape the cursed Lannisters with her. Regardless of the dangers they would have faced, it might have been better for her. Seven hells, for all the shite they suffered together, the wolf girl had surely been safe with him!

Sandor’s mind returned to the present and he looked up, realizing that Sansa was staring into his eyes. With another shock, he knew instantly that at that moment she was reliving the exact same memories and reflecting on the alternatives. He mumbled, his voice thick with emotion, “Grey is fine.”

“Grey is shall be,” she replied and placed her delicate, smaller hand over his huge one, “Would you like the sigil to be a direwolf? I do not think you are a dog anymore.”

He had the rarest of sensations, as if he were about to cry. He hadn’t cried since Gregor maimed his face. The little bird obviously meant something personal by the offer of the direwolf sigil! He took a deep breath and stilled his heart, “Aye, a direwolf.”

“Good!” Sansa replied briskly. Then her manner became less familiar. “Sandor, I must prepare for the evening feast. My handmaidens are going to bathe me now.” The girls stepped up and started to prepare her bath. “You can sit over there while I undress and bathe, or you can go about your own business for the moment.”

Her hands were already unfastening the buttons near her throat and she fixed a questioning look on her face. This time he did blush like a green boy, hurriedly stood up, bowed, and choked out, “I will take my leave, milady.”

“Kiss my hand first, Ser Sandor,” Sansa said imperiously, extending her slim arm and fingers. He kissed her hand lightly and fled the room as quickly as he could, hearing the lady bid him adieu.

\--------------------

Sandor dashed to the stables and shouted for a groom to saddle Stranger. As soon as the destrier was ready, he mounted and galloped towards Wintertown. Stranger sensed his master’s urgency, and needed no spurring. Clegane pulled up to the biggest tavern, threw the reins over the post, and rushed inside. It was crowded, but he was taller than any other man there and had a good view. Spying a tall, sturdy, redheaded, buxom wench, he pushed his way through the crowd, noting her even teeth and a sprinkle of freckles over her nose. He approached her and shouted, “You! Come with me!” grasping one hand and shoving a small bag of gold dragons in the other. 

She did not resist as he hurried her upstairs and Sandor found the nearest empty room. Pulling her inside and slamming the door shut, he feverishly started to pull his tunic over his head, then the chainmail. “I want you naked!” he was still fairly shouting, “This is no quick fuck!” The wench complied, removing all her clothes, revealing her shapely breasts and womanly figure. Sandor had just pulled off his boots and breeches and she stared at his soldier’s body. He might have been hairy enough to make some women squeamish, but he was large and hard and muscular all over, with not an ounce of fat. The wench considered that he could be the model for the statue of the Warrior in Lady Catelyn’s sept.

Sandor ordered the woman to lie down, and to her surprise, he did not immediately attack her cunny, but lavished attention to her breasts for much time, sucking and biting, squeezing her teats, even moaning with pleasure. He seemed to be very needy and she was actually enjoying his ministrations. When he finally entered her, he took care not to crush her with his weight, supporting himself on his elbows, and did not hurry. As he had said earlier, he wanted a long, drawn-out fuck, and took his time. She wrapped her legs around his waist and they pulsated against each other for much longer than usual. Sandor worked over her forever, trying different techniques and positions, and when he finally loudly and explosively came, she realized that she felt good, too.

Clegane rolled off the woman, sweating and panting heavily, and apologized for his fervor and his size, hoping that he had not crushed her. The woman was tracing her fingers over his scars, shocked at the number of them covering his torso. She murmured, “You didn’t crush me. Actually, that was fun!”

Sandor’s eyes cleared and he looked at her, blurting out, “I did not even ask your name!”

The woman laughed, “Ros. What’s yours?”

“Clegane. Sandor Clegane.”

Ros looked closely at him now and smirked, “I know you. You are the Hound. I was working here years ago when you arrived with King Robert, may he rest in peace. You even had me then, but I’ll wager that you do not even remember. Do you?”

Sandor shook his head in embarrassment. He had taken so many whores in his life, even the wolf girl had seen him with whores, and he could not remember a one. “Nae, I do not remember you.”

She did not seem insulted, but continued to trace his scars, “You were so angry and even nasty, I remember. You seem different now.”

“I _am_ different now,” he replied, realizing that it was true.

“I like you better this way,” her voice was soft, “Sandor?”

“”Aye?”

“If you come back again, you do not need to bring gold. Just ask for me.”

Sandor reflected, _If I am to spend much time with the little bird, I may have to move in here!_ He surprised both himself and Ros by kissing her on the forehead, “I have a feeling that you may see me often!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not really SanSan shipping, but it is close enough!


	6. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More SanSan Shipping. I can’t seem to stop the flow of scenarios.
> 
> Arya makes a decision.

Previously: 

Jon nodded, “You are a one-man army, Clegane. I would like to appoint you as the sworn shield to my siblings.”

The Hound’s eyes bugged out, “You want me to guard your sister?!”

He was about to argue about the notion of ‘his past crimes’, but instead replied, “I am not a knight.”

“I would knight you so you could take this position. Would you accept knighthood?”

Sandor imaged himself attired in proud armor, standing next to his little bird. He slowly nodded, “I would, but only because it is necessary for what you want me to do.” He would not elaborate, he might say too much.

Jon stood up and reached way up to clap the man on the shoulder. “Good! Let us go inform Lady Sansa on our agreement.” 

\--------------------------

The armies were preparing to move out. Jon calmly told his younger sister that the Hound was not going, but had agreed to remain in Winterfell as their remaining siblings sworn shield. Arya was _not_ pleased and went to find him, a determined look on her face. The wolf girl found him in the armory, serenely putting an edge on his weapons and polishing his new armor, with a thoughtful expression.

Glaring at him with her familiar disapproving countenance, Arya frowned, “I heard that you were staying here. I thought you wanted to kill your brother!”

Clegane set down the sharpening stone and looked her up and down. She was dressed in her richly-embossed leather tunic, breeches, polished boots, and thick woolen cloak, all cleaned and brushed like new. It was the attire of a wealthy squire, and with her short hair severely tied back and out of her face, she would definitely had appeared to him as the squire of a Great House, except for the fact that the previous evening he had seen her at dinner wearing a gown for the second night in a row, and this gown had a lower neckline. 

Sansa had goaded her sister into wearing a more feminine gown that revealed a modest amount of cleavage, which annoyed her, for she was constantly pulling it up, to the amusement of her brothers and the constant attention of Gendry. The wolf girl and the smith frequently and unconsciously brushed forearms and hands, and when they made eye contact, it was obvious to the Hound that the couple would rather be off fucking somewhere than suffering through a dinner with her amused siblings. 

With her hair brushed out and glossy, and a small amount of make-up, she was beautiful. Sandor heard some greybeards among the bannermen and vassals, who had managed to survive _all_ the wars, murmuring, “The spitting image of our Lady Lyanna Stark, Gods bring her peace.” For himself, Clegane had been startled to realize that the wolf girl had been hiding her modest but shapely figure, and a pair of small, but entrancing teats, under her leathers all this time. 

Now she was scowling at him with her ‘bitch face’, a vertical furrow on her forehead and her arresting eyebrows forming the letter “V”. 

The Hound regarded her coolly, “The dragon boy asked me to guard the raven, _princess._ ”

“Do not call me _princess!_ ” she snapped as he knew she would, “Ha! You didn’t have the nerve to say that you are staying to guard _Sansa_ too!”

“He said that if I looked after your sister and brother, the dragons would forget my _crimes_ from when I served the Lannisters.”

Arya scowled and ignored that statement, “You just want to be near my _sister!_ ”

“The little bird cannot handle a sword like you. Neither can the raven. It is too dangerous to leave them unprotected.” Sandor did not react, he remained unemotional.

Now the angry she-wolf’s eyes narrowed and her thick eyebrows appeared menacing, “You think that she will _fuck_ you!”

“You can’t accuse me of that! I have never mistreated her!” The Hound finally lost his temper, “I should have fucked _you,_ wolf bitch!”

“Why didn’t you?” Arya was truly curious. 

“You were always complaining and criticizing me,” Clegane retorted, “How can a man’s cock stay hard with you running your mouth all the time?!”

“So you _did_ think about it?” This line of questioning had been in the back of her mind for years. During all the many emotion-filled months they traveled together, he had never _once_ acted inappropriately with her. She had never even thought about it until Polliver asked him if she was a good fuck. At that moment she realized how safe she had been traveling with the Hound.

“Aye, there were days you made me so angry that I wanted to pull down your breeches, bend you over a log, and ram you from behind! But you would put on that bitch face and start yammering and I wilted.”

“Bitch face, huh?”

“Aye, sour enough to curdle milk! I should have stuck my cock in your mouth just to shut you up!”

“I would have bit it off!”

“Don’t I know that?! You were always a savage little bitch!”

“As if you were any better!”

They hadn’t had a good argument in years. Arya actually felt thrilled as she traded barbs with her old adversary, and the repartee was as satisfying as if they were sparring in the training yard. Reflecting on the fact that he just admitted that he _had_ considered fucking her, she continued, “You never gave me any idea that you thought like that.”

“Well, it would have been improper. You may have flowered, but you really were still a child. No matter how awful you think I am, I don’t fuck _children!_ ”

“Really?”

“Well, once I did. I was traveling with Gregor, the sick bastard! He liked children and insisted that I fuck one. She was my last. I hated all the screaming and crying.”

Arya was brooding about his appalling confession, “I’m going to kill the Mountain, and I’ll give him your regards when I put my knife through his black heart.”

“Aye, do that for me. I showed you how to do that.”

“Your lessons were useful when I faced the Night King.”

Sandor’s face briefly took on a soft expression, “I’m proud of you, little wolf.”

She caught his eyes, trying to remain unemotional, “Thank you.” Inside her heart she enjoyed his praise. She turned to leave, but just as suddenly her resolve returned. Arya sternly ordered, “Don’t fuck my sister.”

“I don’t intend to!” the Hound snorted and glared at her back, all the sentimentality gone.

\--------------------------

Since Clegane was to spend more time in Sansa’s presence, he started to bath more often and made sure that his clothing was clean and free from odors. He grew his hair long and brushed it to cover the worst of his scars.

Sansa told him that he must be measured for his cloak, and ordered him to sit on a stool while her handmaidens took the seamstress’s tape to his torso. Even sitting down his huge frame dwarfed the fluttering girls. Sansa exclaimed as they measured his shoulders, “Ladies, have you ever seen such wide shoulders?! It is a wonder that Ser Sandor can even fit through a doorway!” 

The maidens, possessing merely ten and three namedays, were young, innocent, and influenced by Sansa’s books. They tittered and fussed around the self-conscious soldier and were a bit in awe of Sandor’s obvious excessive masculinity. Sansa had warned them to get used to the sight of his damaged face, as that was the one thing he was sensitive about, and she wanted him to be comfortable among them. 

The impressionable handmaidens were intrigued with the men in their lady’s life – they thought that Lord Jon was unusual for a fighting man, as he was shorter than their lady and his dark hair was as curly and pretty as a girl’s. His eyes were a soft grey and he was also quiet and polite. They thought of him as adorable. Even his white wolf was quiet and well-mannered. Her crippled brother Bran had proud Stark features and was very dignified, but he was usually aloof and withdrawn, and also somewhat weird. Gendry the smith was impossibly handsome and sweetly humble and shy, and with their youthful romantic inclinations, they thought that Gendry and Lady Arya were the most romantic couple in Westeros. 

Ser Sandor was not like the others, he was huge and rough, and was known to be a fierce and dangerous fighting man, but actually seemed to be awkward when in the presence of dainty ladies. The impressionable maidens were thrilled by the size and strength he exuded, and imagined him seizing them with lust-full glowing eyes, ripping their bodices, fondling their small breasts, and ravishing their young bodies with fervor. The Hound wondered why they always seemed to be blushing when they were near him, and sometimes he found it annoying. For their part, the girls were amused by the fact that Sandor obviously was in awe of their lady and always deferred to her. They found that behavior to be romantic also and they sighed when discussing it by themselves.

The maidens and Sansa were measuring his arms and girth, and Sansa exclaimed again, “Girls, look how muscular Ser Sandor is!” Sandor had been blushing from all the cooing women fussing around him, and without really thinking, he flexed his muscles. Sansa had put her hand on Sandor’s arm and said, “Ooh, girls! Feel this, his biceps are so hard! Ser Sandor must be as strong as an aurochs!”

Clegane was delirious from his little bird’s attention, and he rasped quietly so only she could hear, “My bicep is not the only muscle that is hard!”

Sansa smirked playfully, “Really, what else should I be aware of?”

He hissed, “Send you maidens away and I will show you!”

Sansa appeared as though she was considering his suggestion, but she softly replied, a slight blush on her cheeks, “An interesting suggestion, Sandor, but it would not be proper.” She stroked his forearm, “Mayhaps some other time.”

Sandor jolted upright and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, _I must go see Ros as soon as I leave here!_

Sansa returned him to reality by stating, “your cloak will soon be ready and the knighting ceremony will take place in the Godswood, mayhaps tomorrow. Are you ready?”

Her Tully blue eyes were wide and expectant, and the Hound choked out, “Aye.”

Lady Stark fixed him with a small, sweet smile, and Sandor thought, _why am I such a green boy around this woman?! I cannot think straight!_ But his little bird had always had that effect on him. 

\--------------------------

Arya’s Decision

When Arya accepted her role as ‘no one’ at the House of Black and White, she considered that she had left the love of family behind her and would never experience it again. She also thought that she would never need, nor want, the love of a man and experience normal womanly cravings and affection. But since she had left the House and become Arya Stark again, she rejoiced in the love of her siblings and was pleased to be home. And since she had discovered her old friend Gendry again and experienced romantic love with him, she felt fulfilled and had begun to enjoy the pleasure a man and a woman could share. But now she had to decide what to do about the possibility of carrying Gendry’s babe in her belly. Was she ready to be a wife and a mother? After serious reflection, she came to the conclusion that she was not exactly sure, but she certainly knew what Gendry’s wishes were and she truly desired to meld her life to his.

Sansa and Arya met Gendry and their brothers in a quiet hallway outside the Great Hall, and everyone seemed to be looking at her expectantly. Arya took Gendry’s arm and gazing at each sibling in turn, nodded and said, “I have decided not to drink moon tea. Gendry and I need to have a talk. We will see you all later.” Sansa smiled, Bran was neutral, and Jon appeared concerned.

There was a small table in Arya’s chamber and she sat down in a chair on one side and indicated for Gendry, smiling widely with delight at her words, to sit across from her. She stared into his eyes and stroked his forearm as she stated, “Gendry, I know you want to plan our future, but my list is not complete and I still have work to do.”

Gendry knew this was coming, but frowned anyway. She continued, with almost a pleading tone in her voice, “Gendry, it is too _soon_ for us to dwell on the idea of domestic bliss! The war is not over and _neither_ of us can rest until Cersei Lannister is defeated and replaced. I still hope to skewer her myself on Needle to revenge my family!” 

Her stormy grey eyes were flashing with anger as she pronounced these words, and Gendry sighed, entwining his fingers with hers, “I suppose you are right. I must fight also. The Lannisters are my enemies too. I will go where needed.”

“I am thankful that you do not oppose me,” Arya smiled.

Gendry gazed into her eyes with love and replied, “It is just that I had lost you and was so pleased that we found each other again. We have learned that we can be happy together and now there is the possibility that our lives will end before we have the chance to experience the love we have found.”

Arya had a determined countenance, and firmly stated, “We are _not_ going to die! We have survived too many dangers to end now! Gendry, what do we say to the god of death?!”

Gendry knew her words and immediately replied, “Not today!”

“Aye!” she leaned over the table to kiss him and decisively announced, “We are going to kill Cersei and then make our lives what we want!” Relaxing back into her chair, Arya sighed, “Jon will not be content until we are wed. He will have nightmares about me striding alone through the courtyard with a bulging belly. We need to talk to my siblings soon.”

Gendry nodded with agreement, “Aye, but not right now.” He pointed and suggested, “I see that you have a featherbed. I have never had the pleasure of sleeping in one.” His bright blue eyes twinkled, “I would enjoy the opportunity to share it with you.”

“That is an excellent proposal!” Arya grinned, “And it is much too warm in here for all these clothes!” She stood up and dropped her sword belt and immediately began to unfasten the buttons on her tunic. Gendry followed suit and they found themselves removing garment after garment, interrupting their ministrations with frequent kisses, all the while inspecting each other’s wounds and cleaning each other with towels and warm water from the washbasin near the fireplace. 

Soon they were naked, their skin shining and clean, their hurts tended, and they fell together into the featherbed. They did not have to rush their lovemaking as they did the previous night, taking the time to tenderly learn about each other’s bodies, to explore and worship the flesh that they valued. Arya was aware that her scars distressed her lover, but only kissed his cheek and murmured, “Someday I will tell you the whole story. But know that my enemy is dead, and we have no reason to fear.” Gendry sighed in relief and initiated a deep kiss.

They stroked and fondled the areas that they had learned would cause their partner to groan and thrust, and grow warm and wet. As Gendry was lavishing attention to Arya’s breasts, moaning that he could do this forever, she whispered, “Gendry, I am ready, enter me now!” Their coupling was slow and sweet, not frantic as in their desperate need of the previous night, throbbing and luxuriating in bringing each other to an unhurried climax. As Arya came, stars exploding behind her clenched eyelids, her lower lip between her teeth, her strong thighs squeezed Gendry’s narrow pelvis, pulling his manhood deeper inside of her, insuring that his hot seed would be trapped in her womb, confirming their desire to procreate. As Gendry groaned and became limp, he slid off of his love, glancing at the wetness between them, then leaned back to kiss her lips, murmuring, “I have loved you since you pushed me to the ground and stormed away on the Kingsroad. You were still a child and my feeling may have been inappropriate at the time, but that is long past and I am extremely happy that we are together now!” 

Arya stretched herself out to cover his body, her head lying on his chest, as she stroked his chest hair, “I was mainly annoyed with you during that time, but once I saw you shirtless at Harrenhal, I began to imagine what it would be like to kiss and touch you. I would never have admitted it, but it is true.”

He kissed the top of her head, “We are lucky to have found each other. We must take pains not to die and lose one another again.”

She looked into his eyes and simply replied, “Aye.”

Gendry shifted, fondling her round arse, and patted the mattress with his other hand, “I like this bed,” he smiled, “I never want to leave it!”

Arya kissed his cheek and adjusted her position to cover his stiffening cock with her damp center. “We do not have to leave,” she purred, and began to demonstrate once again her affection for the young smith, avoiding for the moment, the necessary meeting with her siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next - More SanSan – knighting the Hound. Jon and Sansa have plans for Arya and Gendry.


	7. The Godswood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More SanSan Shipping. I can’t seem to stop the flow of scenarios.
> 
> Sunday night was an aberration. I will not be influenced by D&D beyond the passionate kiss shown in the Episode 4 promo. I will continue to write these relationships as I would imagine it.

Previously, in Arya’s featherbed: 

Arya stretched herself out to cover his body, her head lying on his chest, as she stroked his chest hair, “I was mainly annoyed with you during that time, but once I saw you shirtless at Harrenhal, I began to imagine what it would be like to kiss and touch you. I would never have admitted it, but it is true.”

He kissed the top of her head, “We are lucky to have found each other. We must take pains not to die and lose one another again.”

She looked into his eyes and simply replied, “Aye.”

Gendry shifted, fondling her round arse, and patted the mattress with his other hand, “I like this bed,” he smiled, “I never want to leave it!”

Arya kissed his cheek and adjusted her position to cover his stiffening cock with her damp center. “We do not have to leave,” she purred, and began to demonstrate once again her affection for the young smith, avoiding for the moment, the necessary meeting with her siblings. 

\--------------------------

Starks Family Meeting

When Arya and Gendry emerged from their tryst, the siblings gathered in Lady Sansa’s solar, as the Lord’s solar had been commandeered by the dragon queen. Jon had invited Daenerys to the meeting, and the sisters frowned. They had several reasons for not liking the dragon queen, but Jon told them they must consider her as part of the family now for decision-making, and that she was a necessary participant in the proceedings. The solar was quite crowded with the four siblings plus Daenerys and Gendry. There were not enough chairs, and Arya japed that she would sit on Gendry’s lap, but Jon scowled and motioned for Gendry to help him pull out a chest for them to sit on. The lovers were sitting too close together for Jon’s eyes, but he said nothing. 

Jon uncomfortably observed that the pair had their fingers entwined, were freshly bathed and dressed in clean clothes, their cheeks ruddy and their lips puffy, glowing from their recent lovemaking. Since everyone’s eyes seemed to be on them as they settled on the chest, Arya decided that it was a good time to start. “I would have all of you know,” she began, “that Gendry and I are a couple, and hope to join our lives. He claimed me when I had but two and ten namedays, while we were traveling on the Kingsroad, both of us fleeing the Lannisters, following our lord father’s murder.” 

She paused as some of this news was not known to all and their eyes went wide and they shifted in their seats. Arya continued, “We suffered through many dangers and adventures together and grew closer all the time. Gendry decided to leave me because he believed that he must improve his station in order to be worthy of me, a concept that angered me greatly, but that was a moot point because the Red Woman stole him and we parted anyway. It was ironic that at that time he learned that he was the King’s bastard. Now we are pleased to be reunited and do not want to part, ever.” 

Arya paused again to allow this to sink in and because now her announcement was going to become awkward. “Jon is firm in the belief that it is urgent that we wed soon, especially because I have plans to leave Winterfell immediately. The urgency is due to the fact that I may be carrying Gendry’s babe.”

Daenerys gasped, Gendry blushed, Sansa smiled, and Jon frowned, “Aye, your behavior indicates that you are trying to insure that is true!”

Now both Arya and Gendry blushed and gripped their hands tighter. 

Daenerys filled the awkward silence that followed, “Well, Arya has been hailed as our savior, and I believe that we owe her any agreement to her desires. You mentioned the fact that he is not highborn. Gendry has proven to have been most important to our victory, both with his skill as a blacksmith and his courage defending the castle. Seeing as he is the only living male heir to House Baratheon, I would be pleased to legitimize him as the Lord of Storm’s End, providing he give fealty to me and swear that he will never challenge Targaryen rule, as his father had.”

Gendry nodded his head and got down on one knee, “Thank you, your grace, you will never have cause to question my loyalty. In truth, I never had any desire to be a knight or even a lord, I just wanted the opportunity to remain with Arya.” He rose and squeezed Arya’s hand, and she smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Very well,” the queen replied, “I will have the papers drawn up.” 

Now Jon interjected, “I suggest that later this afternoon Arya and Gendry be wed in a small private ceremony in the Godswood.” The pair appeared a bit uneasy at how rapidly things were moving, but Jon gnashed his teeth, glowered at the now self-conscious couple, and continued, “I will not have my little sister traipsing around anywhere with a swollen belly and unwed!” 

\--------------------------

An Impromptu Wedding

Later that day, the family reconvened in the Godswood for the spontaneous wedding. It was to be conducted under a massive weirwood tree that dominated a clearing and a pond. It was their lord father’s favorite place in the castle, and all the siblings were sentimental about it. There was a need for haste in all their activities, because the armies were to move out shortly. 

Arya and Gendry fidgeted around awkwardly, occasionally making eye contact and smiling shyly at each other. They had been holding hands since the family meeting.

A Stark cloak meant for a woman was easily found in Sansa’s closet. Surprisingly, a Baratheon cloak was also found in the castle. During the War of the Five Kings, after Lady Brienne of Tarth executed Stannis, she took his kingly cloak, but had no idea what to do with it as he had no family. Her squire Podrick Payne had packed it among their things and it was still in Brienne’s chest. The cloak was brought out, cleaned and brushed. Queen Daenerys frowned at the sight of the crowned stag, but Sansa told her that she would have her handmaidens pull the golden threads of the crown out following the ceremony. Arya insisted on wearing her leathers, moodily whining, “If we must wed in haste, I will not take the time to change into a woman’s attire.”

The Northern wedding vows were to be exchanged in the Godswood, and Bran took charge. He ordered the couple to kneel in front of the heart tree and intoned dramatically, “Who comes before the Old Gods this day?” 

“Arya, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, true-born and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods.” 

“Who comes to claim her?” 

“Gendry, of House Baratheon. Do you take me, Arya of House Stark?” 

“I take this man,” Arya replied emotionally. 

Jon removed her Stark cloak, and a smirking Sandor placed the folded Baratheon cloak into Gendry’s trembling hands. The smith shook it out and draped it over her shoulders. Arya gulped when Gendry accidentally brushed her cheek as he fastened the ties around her neck. 

The bride stood up and the newlyweds kissed, taking more time to do so that Jon was comfortable with, and turned to the witnesses, raising their entwined hands into the air. With whoops and hollers, hugs were exchanged all around.

Daenerys announced, “Let us all withdraw to the Great Hall now, for we have much to celebrate!”

Arya immediately countered, “Forgive us if Gendry and I do not join you. We have much to do as we are preparing to leaving Winterfell very soon. Besides, we prefer to celebrate our wedding in, er, private.” Jon rolled his eyes, Sansa giggled, the newlyweds blushed, and Daenerys smirked knowingly. 

Daenerys could not help but inquire, “Where are you off to?”

With a dark expression, Arya retorted, “I have unfinished business in King’s Landing.”

Noting how concerned the Stark siblings looked, and recalling rumors she had heard, the queen replied with shock in her voice, “You mean to kill Queen Cersei! Do you really think you can do that?!”

Her eyes flashed as she spit out, “I have been prepared my whole life to gather the skills I need to do so. I am a trained assassin. Anyone who saw me fight against the Army of the Undead would not question my talent for killing!” 

Daenerys gasped, and Bran added, “It was her extraordinary stealth that saved our lives. No ordinary fighter was capable of sneaking up on the Night King nor possessed the means to kill him.”

“Aye, and I will do the same to Cersei, if I can,” Arya said forcefully.

Now the dragon queen looked at Gendry with concern, “And you will accompany Lady Arya on her quest?” 

“Aye,” Gendry sighed, kissing Arya’s entwined hand, “I will not be parted from her again. Life means nothing to me without her.”

“Well, I wish you both good fortune,” Daenerys replied, “You will certainly need it. I needn’t advise you to be safe, as I know that is not possible. Just try to stay alive for there are several who love you and desire that no harm to you.”

Gendry and Arya both nodded in acknowledgement, and beat a hasty retreat before any tears could fall. They had much to do.

\--------------------------

Knighting the Hound 

Several days after the wedding, and after Arya and Gendry had left, the rest of the family reconvened in the Godswood under the same weirwood tree. The Hound was twitching uncomfortably as he waited for the knighting ceremony to begin and he appeared self-conscious for being the center of attention. Sansa presented the Stark cloak that she and her handmaidens had prepared, grey with a black direwolf embroidered in the center. Bran was by Jon’s side as he ordered the huge man to bend over, and then Jon placed the cloak over his wide back and told him to fasten it at his throat.

Jon said, “Lady Sansa, stand next to me. Sandor, kneel before us.” The Hound knelt and lowered his head.

The Lord of Winterfell stiffly recited, "Sandor, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captain, to protect your companions, and your liege family, to fight bravely when needed, and do such other tasks that are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?"

Reminding himself that he was only suffering through this shite for his little bird, he answered, "I do, milord."

Lord Jon stepped forward and rested his broadsword on Sandor’s shoulder. He moved the sword from his right shoulder to his left and said to him, "Arise, Ser Sandor, knight of Winterfell. He added, “Ser Sandor, I appoint you sworn shield to the Stark family of Winterfell, to protect their lives with your own. Rise and bow to your Lord and Lady.”

Sandor stood up, bowed to Bran first, and when he was upright again, he gazed into Sansa's eyes with pride. Sansa admired how noble he now appeared. Lady Stark was a tall woman, but she still had to stand on her tip-toes to kiss Sandor’s cheek. She kissed the left first, murmuring, “my shield,” and then kissed the right, now murmuring, “my protector.”

Jon observed that Clegane had turned beet red and his hands were clenching into fists and then opening with much nervousness. The dragon lord was uncomfortable and he wondered, _does my sweet sister have any idea what she is doing to him?_ He caught Sansa’s eye, and she smiled and winked at him. Now Jon was concerned, _Sansa is discomfiting the Hound on purpose! She is playing with him for her own amusement!_ Jon was not sure if making Clegane her sworn shield was a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still distressed at how D&D have torn our OTP apart. If they are not reunited onscreen by the end of the show, I will be sad, but will focus solely on fan fiction. The show will be dead to me following Episode Three and the promo for Episode Four where they seemed to indicate a passionate reunion. The Gendrya ‘fix-it’ ficlets have helped my regain some hope. I thank all you authors who wrote ‘fix-its’.
> 
> All I know is that our Gendry would NEVER let Arya disappear from his life again! He would argue and plead and accommodate and do anything to be with her. And I believe that our Arya would want him with her, regardless of what she does.


	8. Betrayal

Betrayal

This story was inspired by the hopeful nature of Episodes 1 and 2, and destroyed by Episodes 4 and 6. I cannot believe or accept the cold bitch Arya that the writers have foisted upon us. The character is all wrong. How could Arya leave Winterfell without another word to Gendry? How could she totally ignore him in King’s Landing? How could she board that ship and sail out of his life forever without one more conversation? And how could Gendry let her go without a fight? Would it have been so difficult for the writers to end the shipboard scene with Gendry coming out of the shadows behind Arya and embrace her as she smiles? The Hound ordered her to live, and I do not think he meant her to be alone.

I cannot continue this story, as the plot has veered so much. I think that I can alter and continue my other story based on Season 8, “Redemption”, and I will be writing more in my other two stories, “The Honored Guest” and “Would a Brother Kiss You Like That?”, for they are based mostly on “ASoIaF”, not HBO GoT. 

Gendrya will live on in fan fiction, as long as we believe and continue to read and write. Keep the faith!

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to gravitate to fluff. If you are of the same mind, I suggest you read “His M’lady” by 13letters on AO3. That story also concerns Winterfell after the war and has a long slow burn, gets very romantic and eventually very hot.
> 
> And I must plug my favorite Gendrya treatment, written by my mentor and muse, lady3jane. “The Reluctant Bride” is an epic adventure, with humor and romance, and of course, great sex.
> 
> Fan Fiction writers thrive on caffeine and comments. Please let me if you like the story. Thank you!


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